


Share With Me One Love, One Lifetime

by ClockWorkQueso



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Multi, Oblivious Michael, Pining Michael, THE SPRING MUSICAL, That's it that's the plot, idk what else to tag this, is phantom of the opera, lotsa words for such a little concept, wing-man christine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 17:32:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11673831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockWorkQueso/pseuds/ClockWorkQueso
Summary: The sign up sheet for the spring musical auditions goes up with its usual fanfare- that is to say, none at all- but, at lunch, it's the first thing out of Christine’s mouth before they've all even sat down.“You guys,” she chirps, so brightly that Michael can feel the glare on his glasses, “should really do the spring musical!”Pining fucking hurts.So if you told Michael that he would be willing to watch Jeremy try and woo Christine every night for about a month while he played second fiddle to her yet again, he would recommend you get your head checked, dude.Unfortunately, Michael’s been wrong about many things in his life.





	Share With Me One Love, One Lifetime

It has been established that there is next to nothing that Michael wouldn't do for Jeremy, his own well being be damned. When you're prepared to get beaten down by a sentient computer controlling your best friend’s body and possibly the  _ entire student body _ , you know you've got it bad. 

 

Michael has it. Bad. 

 

Still, some things push Michael’s limits of what's okay to do for Jeremy, not because he doesn't love his boy, but because he. Well. Loves him a bit  _ too much _ . As much as he adores being Jeremy’s wing-man, for example, watching him fawn over Christine like she hangs the stars breaks his heart, just a little.

 

(It's only gotten worse since they've started dating, their late night video gaming sessions peppered with things like  _ Christine’s nose crinkles when she laughs, it's the cutest thing _ ,  _ we went roller skating and she held my arm the whole time,  _ and  _ she kissed me on the cheek before class yesterday!  _ Michael, as he descends into this fresh level of hell, smiles, oohs and ahs, because Jeremy seems so happy.) 

 

Pining fucking  _ hurts _ . 

 

So if you told Michael that he would be willing to watch Jeremy try and woo Christine every night for about a month while he played second fiddle to her yet again, he would recommend you get your head checked, dude.  

 

Unfortunately, Michael’s been wrong about many things in his life.  

 

oOo

 

The sign up sheet for the spring musical auditions goes up with its usual fanfare- that is to say, none at all- but, at lunch, it's the first thing out of Christine’s mouth before they've all even sat down. 

 

“You guys,” she chirps, so brightly that Michael can  _ feel _ the glare on his glasses, “should really do the spring musical!” 

 

She glances at Jeremy expectantly, knocking their shoulders together. Michael, to Jeremy’s right, is subjected to a literal crash course on the laws of physics and nearly loses his grip on his slushie. Due to the empty chair between them, he avoids doing the same to Jenna- who appears to have ignored Christine completely, as engrossed as she is in the story she's telling Brooke. As it were, he would’ve probably knocked Chloe into next week. Just imagining Chloe’s glare in response to even mildly inconveniencing her is enough to give Michael chills; thank whatever god that’s looking out for him today that she went to touch up her makeup in the bathroom. 

 

Back to the drama at hand, he assures his bro that’s it’s no big deal as Jeremy stutters out an apology. Christine scrunches her eyebrows together and apologizes too, and Michael curses the powers that be for making her so goddamn adorable. He nods his acceptance and takes a huge swig of his drink to inhibit further conversation. 

 

Rare silence settles over them like a cozy blanket (in Michael’s opinion), save for Jenna’s animated babbling, and the occasional gasp from Brooke. 

 

“Okay Christine, I'll bite. What's the pick?” Rich grins from across the table, leaning forward. “Mr. Reyes said it was one of three, right? That's what he told us in December.”

 

Christine claps her hand together, bursting back to life, but Jeremy answers for her, shaking his head: “I'm pretty sure he just said that to mess with us.”

 

“He buys the rights to the shows that we do the year before we do them,” Christine states, practically vibrating in her chair. Her smile then turns coy. “But I  _ do  _ know what we're putting on. Only because Mr. Reyes had me staple the audition packets together, which can be picked up in the auditorium after school!”

 

Chloe finally makes it to the table, curious, and Jenna perks up at Christine knowing something they don't, completely dropping her earlier subject and taking the seat closest to Michael so Chloe can sit by Brooke. She nudges Michael excitedly and listens in. He's pretty surprised she doesn't already know, as she makes it a habit to  _ always  _ know. He just takes another pull from his slushie and resigns himself to a lunch break chock full of theatre nerd rambling. 

 

Michael has a hypothesis. After the play, the group (lovingly referred to as the Squip Squad) had discovered a shared passion for acting, all taking up theatre with gusto, and Jeremy’s told him that his Squip said that “friendship is just a shared connection” verbatim. Remnants from the artificial connections between their linked Squips might be affecting their current behavior by creating common interests. Being an outsider, it's easier for Michael to see how all of them weirdly mimic each other’s quirks, like Jeremy’s newfound ear for gossip, or his love of theatre, or his obsession with the latest trends, or his knack for archery, or his appalling desire to devour tons of Pinkberry frozen yogurt. 

 

Insta-friends. Must be nice. Michael can't complain- at least he wasn’t mind-controlled by a fucking psychopathic Japanese Tic-Tac. He feels a little out of the loop sometimes, though they’ve bonded some as a group. The Squad just has moments like these when they’re so connected that Michael feels more like Jeremy’s plus one instead of his Player One. 

 

He's so tuned out that he doesn't notice the bell, and Jeremy has to shake his shoulder just a bit. Glumly, he throws his half full slushie in the trash, because his next class has a super stringent policy about food and drinks, which just sucks.

 

They travel together, exiting the cafeteria to the crowded school hallways, stopping to scrawl their names on the sign up sheet under Christine’s before peeling away to get to their respective classes. Michael, Jeremy, and Brooke soldier on to their classes upstairs. Brooke, bless her, hangs back to let Michael have a moment with his best friend, but all he does is reiterate what Michael had tried so hard to ignore at lunch.  _ Damn Jeremy, he knows me too well _ . They trudge up the stairs as Michael attempts to understand Audrey II’s pitiful costuming situation if they were to put on Little Shop of Horrors.    

 

Jeremy catches Michael's wrist before they part ways. “Can we drop by the auditorium after school? To pick up our packets?” 

 

“Sure thing, buddy,” Michael basks in Jeremy’s warm smile for a few seconds, and then Jer drops his hold.  Wait. Did he say  _ our _ ? “I’ll, uh, catch you later.” 

 

He barely takes one step before Brooke speeds forward to link arms with Jeremy, all but dragging him to their class together. 

 

Michael lets his smile drop and books it down the hall.

 

oOo

 

Jeremy flips through the audition packet as Michael drives the two of them to his place. His own stupid script is burning a hole in his bookbag, because stupid Jeremy and his stupid cute face convinced him to pick one up. The song of the week pours out of the speakers, and he bops his head to the beat, fingers tapping the wheel. Michael is forever grateful that Jer doesn’t complain about listening to the same song on repeat for however long Michael’s obsessed with it, even if it’s in Tagalog. His BFF’s a good sport. 

 

God dammit, Michael will be, too. 

 

There’s an ugly voice in his head telling him that there’s no way he’s gonna get up in front of an entire audience of people and do  _ well _ , but there’s a softer, more familiar voice encouraging him to be there for his buddy, even though the prep would be beyond intense, and everyone else in the Squip Squad has a leg up on him. 

 

Michael heard from Chloe in his last period that they only had a week to prepare for auditions next Wednesday, and that the cast list would be posted that Friday afternoon. She also complained about the difficulty of the singing parts. 

 

Michael wanted to make a quip about her acting, but the teacher interrupted their chat. Divine intervention, he thinks.  

 

The musical that Mr. Reyes chose is Phantom of the Opera, a dramatic and terrifying musical with lots of good voices required, in Michael’s opinion. He isn't big on theatre himself, but he has a soft spot for musicals with a kickass soundtrack. Michael's listened to it a couple of times in his life, if only for a few songs. He would love to listen to Music of the NIght on repeat if it weren’t for that fucking organ solo at the end.   

 

“Who should I audition for?” Jeremy wonders aloud, and Michael nearly says  _ the Phantom, of course _ , but that doesn't fit Jeremy at all. Imagining Jeremy moodily playing the organ  _ is  _ a rather striking image, though. “Maybe one of the managers…?”

 

“Nah bro,” Michael gestures grandly with the hand that isn't on the wheel, “go big or go home. Try Raoul, at least. I think you'd be great!”

 

Raoul, from what he remembers, is sweet, brave, and totally devoted to Christine: his Jeremy to the letter. 

 

Jeremy flushes out of the corner of his eye, probably out of embarrassment. “I dunno, I've never really sung for anyone before.” 

 

“ _ Sing for me _ !” Michael commands in his best Phantom voice, and Jeremy lets out a ridiculous squeak. Michael wheezes, and Jeremy smacks him on the shoulder. He manages, “Dude, chill, you have a week to practice,” before he catches the way Jeremy's entire face has gone red.  _ He looks like an angry tomato _ . Michael McFreakin’ loses it, tearing up, barely making it into his driveway. 

 

Michael is still giggling like a maniac as they plod down the stairs into the basement, swatting away Jeremy’s angry attempts to get at him, and push him down, probably.  “It’s a musical, Jere-bear, what did you expect?”

 

His Player 2 huffs and makes a beeline for his beanbag after his attempt to murder Michael in cold blood is unsuccessful. “I dunno, let’s just kill some zombies or something.”

 

“Ah ah ah,” Michael tuts, drawing his audition packet out of his bag menacingly, “we’ve got some work to do.”

 

OoO

 

The auditorium feels cavernous without an audience. The last time Michael was here, he had to sneak backstage, smuggling an entire bottle of Mountain Dew Red past the no food or drinks rule posted above the doors. He still feels like Mr. Reyes could pop out at any minute and say something maniacal, like “I’ve caught you  _ red handed _ ,” and throw him right out of auditions. He blends right in with the other terrified teenagers in the room. 

 

Auditions are a big deal to theatre kids. He’s seen at least three of them with brown paper hyperventilation bags, and more than half of them are doing some sort of weird warmup. 

 

Jeremy really has nothing to worry about, as much as they rehearsed in Michael’s basement. Like, damn, his boy can sing- Michael thinks he's an obvious shoe-in for Raoul de Chagny. At the very least he deserves a solo. Michael, at best, can squeeze into the ensemble. His acting isn’t on par with everyone else’s, not even close. 

 

“This is worse than last time,” Jeremy mutters quietly, and Michael sighs, looping an arm around his Player Two. He guides them to an empty row with enough seats for the whole squad, plopping them right into the middle. 

 

“Chillax, man. We're all friends here.” 

 

Jeremy side eyes him, frowning. Michael can feel how hard he's trembling. “Y-yeah, that's the point, Michael. It was easy wh-when my reputation  _ literally  _ couldn't get any w-worse… now if I mess up, they'll never let me live it down, I'll be the laughing stock at lunch.”

 

“Woah, dude. I think you're forgetting Chloe’s  _ spectacular  _ performance. I heard from Jenna that she tripped over that side curtain thing twice and dropped more cues than she picked up in rehearsals, but we don't make fun of her.” Michael soothes, rubbing little circles into Jeremy's back. 

 

His shaking lessens, but he still sounds doubtful. “Oh my god Michael what if my voice cracks?” 

 

“Then you will be just like any other teenage boy in the entire world. Can't fight  _ biology _ .” Michael says. Despite himself, Jer snorts and giggles in the way that he hates, but Michael thinks it's just the cutest thing he's ever seen. “You've got this.”

 

It comes out  _ way  _ more tender than Michael intended, but Jeremy just slumps over in his chair, relaxing into Michael’s back rub. 

 

“How's it hangin’, bros?” Rich flops into the row behind them, sticking his head right beside Michael’s. Jeremy keeps his head down, but makes some sort of odd crooning noise, kind of like a dolphin. 

 

“Pretty good,” Michael hums, not pausing in his movements. Rich smirks at him and nods to Jeremy. “Well, this one's nervous, but that's because he's the one really auditioning. I'm here for moral support. You need a hug, Rich?” 

 

Rich’s eyebrows knit together. “Maybe later, but, uh, you're not  _ really _ auditioning? Don't you'd think it’d be killer to all do the musical together?”

 

“Nah, it's not my thing. I know I’m not getting in. Who do you want?” Michael deflects, shrugging a shoulder. He pats Jeremy on the back twice and the boy sits up, bleary eyed but substantially calmer. 

 

Rich stills looks kind of put out, but a bashful smile spreads across his face regardless. “Well, I'm hoping Jake and I get Andre and Firmin, you know? Opera bros!” 

 

Jeremy grins. “Oh, that'd be  _ perfect _ !” 

 

“I think you'd make a great Phantom, Jeremy,” Rich says earnestly. Jeremy raises his eyebrows and shakes his head once, but then Rich turns to Michael, suddenly accusatory, “and you'd be awesome as Raoul! So  _ audition _ !” 

 

“Pshh,” Michael rolls his eyes, and thinks on the fly. “I am in no way prepared to audition for Raoul, man, even if I wanted to. I’m singing for ensemble and that’s it.”

 

Jeremy, a few shades redder, isn't convinced. “You worked with me enough to know all the audition parts just as well as me. And… d-don't be upset with me,” he quiets after his voice breaks, “but I kinda told Mr. Reyes that you were really good?”

 

“You did what now? Jeremy!” Michael groans, throwing a betrayed look at his friend. 

 

“Jeremy has a point, Michael. I know you don't feel like you gel with the rest of us, so hangin’ out for hours after school sounds like a good way to, you know, really get to know each other!” Rich chimes in, and Michael redirects his glare to him. It's well intentioned, and he's not wrong, but Michael doesn't… fit in here, he wouldn't do the others justice. He's better off at home, eating junk food and getting stoned. 

 

“Maybe…” Jeremy starts, and Michael gets absolutely caught up in the way he's looking up through his lashes, pleading, “just do the audition then ask to do tech instead if you don't like your part?”

 

Oh,  _ shit _ , he is so fucking gay. 

 

“Alright, man, I-” Michael growls in the back of his throat in annoyance, “give me my stupid audition packet, then. Let’s run lines.”

 

Jeremy lights up like a Christmas tree, and doubles over to rifle through his bag. Rich shoots him  _ A Look _ , and Michael’s sure his gaydar is going insane. Michael averts his eyes.  _ Well, it can't get worse _ .

 

“Jere-bear!” Christine bounds over to them, small sheets of paper in one hand, waving frenetically with the other. Michael ruffles at the pet name, but you know, he doesn't really have a monopoly on the name Jere-bear even though  _ he's  _ the one who came up with it in fourth grade so it's whatever. 

 

Jeremy manages to smile even wider. He almost sings her name, “Christine!” 

 

“Wanna help me pass out these numbers? They're to determine the audition order for each part.”

 

Nose crinkling just as Jeremy describes, she laughs, takes the paper marked with a one and sticks it in her pocket. Rich snickers and stands. “Mix ‘em up and I'll help too.”

 

Jeremy jumps to his feet and holds out a hand. Christine distributes a few papers each to the two, and they're off. Michael takes a moment to look around, and shockingly enough, quite a few kids have shown up to audition, far more than he would've guessed. 

 

Christine notices his face and giggles. “Mr. Reyes is surprised too. Apparently our play was  _ really _ popular, and now kids want to know what's up with the theatre department. It's really amazing because this show has some crazy vocal stuff involved, I've been working on my range forever  _ just  _ to play Christine! I'm so ready to get this show on the road, you know? Once we have these numbers out, we should be ready to start auditions.” The girl finally pauses for breath, and she looks at him questioningly. “Are you auditioning, Michael?”

 

She holds out one of her little numbers, and he begrudgingly accepts, earning a winning smile in return. It makes him feel warm inside for no reason, and again he is struck by how nice she is. Jeremy deserves someone like her, definitely. Someone good, and pure. A precious cinnamon roll. Ten outta ten. 

 

Speaking of numbers, Michael glances down at the little number resting in his palm. Lucky number 7. 

 

Yeah, for anyone who comes after him, maybe. Real talk, Michael can sing well enough and keep the beat, from years of experience dancing with his mama in the kitchen, and growing up with his deep love of music. But even if he  _ can _ sing, there are only so many parts, and the Squip Squad has the upper hand in actual performance.  

 

He’ll audition, decline his ensemble role due to some made up conflict, and politely ask to be in tech or crew. And if that bombs, well. 

 

Nothing like some quality alone time in his basement. 

 

oOo

 

After the whole audition process is explained by an enthusiastic Mr. Reyes, and they've been lined up in the auditorium seats by number, Jeremy finds Michael again. He has number thirty-three, and he's ecstatic, because three is Jer’s lucky number. Michael smiles all wide and goofy like he does when Jeremy gets hyper like this, and tells him to break a leg. Jake, number eight, looks over at Michael with a playful eye roll. 

 

He hums Masquerade as Christine takes the stage, and Jeremy rushes back to his seat. All in all, there's about sixty kids, which is barely anything compared to the whole student body, but a serious upgrade from Christine and the populars who needed the extracurricular. It's pretty sweet. Michael can tell that the ensemble probably won't suck ass. 

 

Christine walks through the procedure again, reminding them to line up in number order when their part is called and to state their name and to stand in the light. The singing options are cut to save time, what with the sixty hopefuls, to the Phantom, Raoul, and Christine, with the option to take anything down the octave. Those who just want ensemble can sing and leave; then come the callbacks for script reading to determine characterization and who best fits what. And so it begins. 

 

The Phantoms are okay, not stellar. Jake gives it his best as one of the first ones, setting the bar pretty high, but… there aren't many guys with that lilty tenor voice required to sing Music of the Night- the Phantom isn't  _ all  _ about growling and shouting. He's tender, too, and sad. Absently, he thinks that Jeremy could do it for sure, but then the final auditionee, number fifty-three, sings the last note of the bar so flat that Michael literally has to focus on the feel of the armrest to keep from screaming. God, is he nervous? He's  _ so _ nervous holy hell. He picks at the fabric of his trusty hoodie- no dress code for these auditions, praise- to keep his hands busy. 

 

Christine, the first Christine, absolutely stuns Michael with her Think of Me. The section Mr. Reyes chose highlights both the basic melody of the song and the climax at the end, which gives the girls a bit of leeway to show off their range. And boy did Christine  _ work it _ . 

 

He knows it's discouraged, but Michael lets out a little whoop for Christine as the applause swells, and she beams at him. Mr. Reyes makes them settle down, grumbling something about clapping slowing the whole process down, as the next three Christines meekly get out of line and return to their seats. The fourth, number twenty-seven, takes a noteworthy stab at it. A few more cycle through until it's Brooke, Chloe, and Jenna in a row. Jer must've put them together like the sweetheart he is. 

 

Brooke is quiet at first, but near the end she sprinkles in some beautiful riffs with some encouragement from Chloe. The brunette is next, and, complete with a hair flip, she delivers almost seamless vocals with a near poker face. Maybe Michael should've told her about her acting skills, or, uh, her lack thereof. Whoops. 

 

Jenna takes center stage like a boss, and Michael will fight anyone who says she doesn't look the part. Her rendition of the aria is beautiful, matching even Christine’s in quality, but her confident smirk as she walks away is the icing on the cake. She passes in front of him to get back to her seat and he gives her a high five and mad props. 

 

He leans forward to see if he can catch Christine’s eye from where she is on his left, which he can. He mouths,  _ La Carolotta _ , and she widens her eyes and nods furiously.

 

The Raoul auditions come up next, and Michael feels himself move to the stage without really registering it. He tells himself that it's for Jeremy, over and over, like a mantra, and it calms him a little, but there are butterflies in his stomach and his hands have gone clammy. It's strange, because standing in front of a crowd doesn't usually weird him out or get him anxious, not like Jeremy. 

 

Michael usually thinks of his anxiety like a sunburn- you can't feel it when you're out in the sun and the heat in your skin is pretty easy to ignore, but then you get home and start to feel sick and your skin is on fire and peels off slowly and painfully, and you just don't want to exist for as long as you can feel what you're feeling. Then, it can be soothed and forgotten about. Rinse repeat. Jeremy’s anxiety is more like catching on fire in the sun. He's immediately uncomfortable in awkward situations, like there's a fire  _ under _ his skin, whereas Michael can remain pretty chill. 

 

This creeping feeling, though, these nerves… he doesn’t want to disappoint Jeremy. There's also a part of him that really wants to do this for himself, to get a part and be involved and do a good job.

 

So he, number seven, waits in line behind four other boys as mellowly as he can. They're okay, not great but nothing to sneeze at. Number four is handsome and charming as he introduces himself, likening himself to his character, but he awkwardly stops and starts his piece of All I Ask Of You, and then it's Michael's turn. 

 

He stands ramrod straight as he slides onto center stage, taking a deep breath. He can feel eyes on him, so many eyes, and he wonders if anyone knows him at all, and knows how out of place he is right now. And then he thinks of Jeremy waiting down the line, watching. Waiting. He can do this. 

 

“Hello, I'm Michael Mell,” he grins winsomely, sounding surprisingly loud and confident even to himself. Mr. Reyes jots something down on his notepad, and nods his head as he plays the pitch from his phone. Okay. One part of the verse and then the chorus, easy. 

 

With nothing but Jeremy in his mind, Michael loosens up, takes one final breath, and sings:

 

_ Let me be your shelter _ __   
_ Let me be your light _ __   
_ You're safe, no one will find you _ __   
_ Your fears are far behind you _ __   
  


And he means every word. His brain supplies Christine's part of the duet, as jokingly sung by Jeremy in his car when they listened to the soundtrack nonstop for three days, in the split second it takes for him to breathe in: 

 

_ All I want is freedom _ __   
_ A world with no more night _ __   
_ And you, always beside me _ __   
_ To hold me and to hide me _ __   
  
Michael unconsciously reaches out a hand, smiling, letting this Jeremy know exactly how he feels. He doesn't even see the audience before him anymore as he belts to the back of the auditorium: 

  
_Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime_ _  
_ _Let me lead you from your solitude_ _  
_ _Say you need me with you here, beside_ __you …

 

Fading out, he sighs a relieved  _ thank you _ and goes to his seat. It is only when he sits down does he register the uproarious applause. 

 

He looks to the stage and Jeremy and Rich are up there, a few people apart, clapping as hard as they can. The other auditionees are a bit more reserved, but the students behind him are going crazy. He chuckles in disbelief, and sags against the chair tiredly, feeling exhausted and exhilarated. 

 

Maybe he'd stay in the ensemble after all. 

 

Michael spaces out for about fifteen auditions, until Rich does a really good impression of a small, beefy Vicomte. Pretty impressive. He flashes a thumbs up at Rich as he descends the stairs. Rich gives him a crooked smile and a double thumbs up back. 

 

Soon after, Jeremy auditions, beautifully if Michael does say so himself. He plays Raoul as a little more imploringly, which Michael supposes comes from all that pining after Christine IRL. Jeremy does a little bend at the waist when he's finished, and leaves the stage to more scattered applause. Michael can see Mr. Reyes’ ears slowly becoming redder and it's hilarious. 

 

Mr. Reyes stands after the last Raoul returns to his seat, holding his notepad in front of him. “Will the following students please remain to read: Jake Dillinger, Matthew Goodman, Christine Canigula, Chloe Valentine, Jenna Rolan, Becky Duval, Rich Goranski, and Jeremy Heere. If I did not call your name, you are free to go. The cast list will be posted on Friday on the wall just outside of the auditorium. Thank you.”

 

Michael’s heart sinks, heavy and cold, but he rises buoyantly and nearly skips back to Jeremy. He pushes through a few grumbling students and two girls in tears to pull Jer into a huge hug. “How's that callback feel, dude?” 

 

Jeremy shrugs out of Michael's hold, flushed but grinning from ear to ear. “It could only be better if my favorite person got a callback too.”

 

Michael feels his heart get a little lighter. He smirks and pinches Jeremy’s cheeks. “Aw, I'm your  _ favwite pewson _ ?” 

 

Jeremy bats his hands away, only pretending to be annoyed. The smile gives him away. “Shut up Michael, you know you are!” 

 

“I'll wait in the audience for you, okay?” Michael says, stepping back to let Jeremy in the aisle. 

 

Jeremy frowns, clutching his audition packet to his chest. “You don't have to, I can just walk home. I have no idea how long this'll take.” 

 

Michael scoffs. “And what kind of friend would I be if I didn't wait up for my buddy? Don't worry about me, just kill this audition!” 

 

“I still think you would be a better Raoul than me,” Jeremy sighs, and goes to join the others onstage with Mr. Reyes. Michael doesn't agree, of course. He takes Jeremy's vacated seat and settles in to watch. 

 

“Alright, Matthew, Jake, can either of you do a convincing Italian accent?” Mr. Reyes asks, and Jake shrugs while Matthew, a kid that Michael’s only seen around in the hallways, makes a so-so gesture. “Great.” 

 

Michael pulls out his phone as the two of them read for Piangi. Mr. Reyes lets Jenna read for Carolotta, of course, and Christine for Christine. They work on a scene from the beginning of the play. He taps into the squad’s group chat, which Brooke and Rich have commandeered, spamming everyone who got called back with congratulations and emojis. He types up something himself, sends it, then pockets his phone again. 

 

Jake gets to read for both managers, at the same time, and Michael wonders if that means Rich might've already been casted and Jake just needed to determine which one of them got which manager. 

 

Chloe makes a surprisingly good Madame Giry, due to her rigid posture and commanding voice. Becky Duval acts like the role of Meg is beneath her, butchering the sweet girl’s character in the scene. Jeremy stands to the side, waiting for Mr. Reyes to have him read. 

 

“Alright, alright,” Mr. Reyes clicks his tongue, “there aren't a lot of speaking parts for the Phantom… Act 2, scene one and two, after Masqurade, should be about the tenth page in your packet, please!”

 

The students on stage comply. “Right… Chloe, still Madame Giry, Christine, still Christine… alright, Jake, read for Raoul, and Jeremy, I know it's technically singing, but if you would, the Phantom’s Why So Silent? to start us off. Just pick a pitch, I don’t care, as long as you do it in character.” 

 

Jeremy starts, and glances at the paper in his grip. Michael can't help but lean forward with bated breath. Jeremy? As the Phantom? No way…! Visibly steeling himself, Jeremy stands as straight as he can and adopts the most menacing expression Michael’s  _ ever  _ seen on the boy. 

 

“ _ Why so silent, good messieurs _ ?” Jeremy sings lowly, “ _ Did you think that I had left you for good _ ?”

 

The others, frozen in place, finally settle into their roles, Christine stepping forward as if entranced. Jake grabs her wrist, fearfully keeping his eyes on Jeremy, while Chloe puts a hand to her chest, looking as if she's seen a ghost. Michael is floored by the chemistry onstage, the scene coming to life before him. 

 

“ _ Have you missed me, good messieurs? I have written you an opera! Here I bring the finished score- Don Juan Triumphant!”  _ Jeremy, spitting the words, tosses his script at Matthew, who fumbles to catch it. Mr. Reyes looks beside himself. 

 

It is quiet as the tension thickens. Jeremy hisses, “ _ I advise you to comply, my instructions should be clear,”  _ then ramps up the volume for, “ _ Remember there are worse things than a shattered chandelier!” _

 

Something stirs in Michael’s gut at seeing this new, scary side of Jeremy. Christine breaks out of Jake’s hold and glides towards Jeremy, who pretends to tear something from around her throat. Michael is not sure what all  _ that’s  _ about, but fuck it, that was one of the coolest things he’s ever watched Jeremy do. And he’s seen Jeremy eat an entire bottle of Elmer’s Glue. 

 

No, wait, that was him.  

 

“Alright, I think that's enough. Thank you all,” Mr. Reyes nods his head, pats the nearest student on the back, “check back Friday and initial next to your name if you accept your role.” 

 

Jeremy returns to his normal posture, face slackening back into the dopey smile Michael knows and loves. Christine bounces on the balls of her feet and jumps to hug Jeremy, probably telling him how amazing he did. They descend the steps together, and Michael stands to meet them. 

 

“Hey Christine,” he nods, only a little displeased that she was the first to compliment Jeremy. “You need a ride?” 

 

“Her dad’s waiting in the parking lot,” Jeremy supplies, and breaks from Christine to wrap his lanky arms around Michael. Jeremy whispers happily in his ear, “was that killer or what, man?” 

 

“You were both amazing,” Michael squeezes Jeremy tight, then pulls back. Jeremy keeps one arm around his shoulders, pressing into his side. Michael gives Christine a small smile too. “And I mean,  _ really  _ amazing.” 

 

She grins and steps up to Michael, giving him a quick hug, hip-checking Jeremy away. She leans back and stares into his eyes as she says, “if it were up to me, you would have gotten to read for Raoul.” She releases him and goes to get her bag, giving them a final wave as she leaves the auditorium. Jeremy resumes his position, happily draping one gangly arm over Michael’s broad shoulders. 

 

Michael blinks a few times. “She is so nice. You ready to get outta here?” 

 

Jeremy nods. “She's right, though. You'd be a great Raoul!”

 

“You don't think it'd be weird if I was your girlfriend’s pretend boyfriend?” Michael hoists his bag onto his shoulders after digging his car keys out of the side pocket. 

 

“Oh,” Jeremy blushes, finally withdrawing to let Michael wear his backpack, but smiles and shakes his head. “Christine and I aren't dating anymore. She told me that she's asexual and maybe aromantic? She said she needs to figure out who she is and everything, and that she really wanted us to work out, but…” 

 

Michael nearly trips. “W-why didn't you tell me, dude? Break ups suck.”

 

“We’re still really good friends. Christine has a lot of platonic love for all of us, and it's not like I can be mad at her for, like, her sexuality. It's cool,” Jeremy explains, pushing open the doors to the parking lot for them. Michael feels like a universal truth has been broken. 

 

“But you still gush about her all the time?” Michael tries. Jeremy is in love with the one and only Christine Canigula, has been for years. That can't just… change.

 

Jeremy snorts. “Of course I do. We all do. She is adorable personified. Besides, I do the same thing with you to her, actually! So it balances out.”

 

Jeremy. Gushes. About him? “Me?” 

 

They reach his car. “Yeah. You do cute shit, like, all the time.” 

 

“Oh,” Michael breathes, and starts the car. The Phantom of the Opera blasts from the speakers, cutting their conversation short. Thank god, because Michael has no idea what to say to that. He drops Jeremy off at his house, managing a smile and wave, before driving home, mind spinning. 

 

In his basement, he replays their conversation over and over again in his mind as he blows the heads off some pixelated zombies. 

 

Observation one: Jeremy no longer loves Christine. 

 

Observation two: Jeremy talks to Christine about him. 

 

Observation three: these talks may involve the  _ cute shit  _ that Michael does  _ all the time _ . 

 

Conclusion: Jeremy thinks Michael is cute. 

 

Observation four: holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit-

 

oOo

 

Thursday and Friday are a blur. If Jeremy notices anything off about the way Michael is acting, he either doesn't notice it or attributes it to the cast list nerves. In reality, Michael is still rewriting his known laws of the universe, and trying to keep his raging feelings for his best friend in check. The worst case scenario is that he stays in ensemble and gets to watch Jeremy and Christine fall in love and make out every day for the foreseeable future with the knowledge that Jeremy  _ maybe maybe probably doesn't  _ like him. Then there's tech or crew-

 

Oh god what if he joins crew and has to be Jeremy’s dresser.

 

_ Nope okay just breathe Michael _ . 

 

He's in last period, with Chloe, who seems altogether unbothered by the goings on today, doodling little hearts in the margins of her notes with little Bs in them.  _ Big Mood _ , Michael sighs to himself, and tries in vain to focus on the lesson. No dice. Instead, he watches the clock tick tick tick until it's time to pack up. He asks Chloe if she wants to walk to the auditorium together, and she actually smiles and agrees. 

 

“I hope Brooke gets in,” she says to him as the bell rings and they exit the classroom. “She didn't get called back, which was some bullshit, but she sings really well, and she wants Meg really badly.”

 

Michael agrees with her, and she smiles at him again. “I like your  _ pride patch _ ,” she grins, and Michael connects the dots.  _ Definitely Big Mood, then _ . She shoulders him lightly.  _ Huh _ , Chloe is pretty cool, he guesses. 

 

“We should hang out sometime.” Michael suggests impulsively, and she  _ oohs _ . 

 

“Pinkberry tomorrow afternoon?” 

 

“How about lunch at 12, Pinkberry after?”

 

Chloe giggles. “A true gentleman. I know you hate Pinkberry, Jeremy thinks it's hilarious and unbelievable.” 

 

“Takin’ Chloe on a date, Michael?” Rich jumps between them just as they round the corner to the auditorium. Michael jumps, but Chloe just scoffs.

 

“We’re  _ bonding _ , Richard. I’m allowing him to see past my stone-cold bitch exterior because we’re in similar positions.”

 

Rich  _ ahs _ , and pats Michael on the back. Hard. But, weirdly, Michael appreciates their efforts. 

 

“Have you seen the cast list yet?” Chloe asks, and Rich shakes his head. 

 

“C’mon, let’s go!” He crows, and nearly drags them there. A small crowd lingers around the list, some dragging a finger down the ensemble row. Jeremy leans against the wall while Christine babbles to him animatedly. He looks dazed. 

 

Rich pushes them closer. It reads:

 

The Phantom: Jeremy Heere 

Christine Daae: Christine Canigula 

Raoul de Chagny: Michael Mell

Meg Giry: Brooke Lohst

Madame Giry: Chloe Valentine

Carolotta Giudicelli: Jenna Rolan

Richard Firmin: Rich Goranski 

Gilles Andre: Jake Gillinger 

Ubaldo Piangi: Matthew Goodman

Joseph Buquet: Benjamin Loub

And then the ensemble. 

 

Raoul de Chagny… Michael Mell. Jeremy catches his eye from the wall and grins knowingly. Christine gives him a thousand-watt smile. Rich slaps him once more on the back and says something brightly, but Michael is in a state of shock. He got a lead. A pair of arms wrap around him and pull him to the wall. 

 

“Isn't this great?” Jeremy squeals into his ear, and Michael laughs into his shoulder. He… wow. He did it.  _ They  _ did it! 

 

“We should all go out for dinner or something, broskis!” Jake suggests after reading the list. Jeremy still hasn't released him. It’s very nice and warm and  _ wow he got a lead they got leads THEY GOT LEADS _ -

 

Someone taps him on the shoulder and he begrudgingly parts from Jeremy’s hold, but he just ropes Rich into a shorter hug- no pun intended- as Michael focuses on Christine. 

 

“I’m  _ so proud  _ of you, Michael,” she squeals and hits him lightly. “Though, uh,” she beckons him forward, whispering, “I’ll do my best to stay out of your way,  _ hah _ .” 

 

Michael tilts his head, frowning. “Outta my way for what?”

 

Christine just snickers and skips over to Jenna, who smirks at her. “I’m ready to duke it out, Canigula.”

 

Jake reiterates his idea of going out to eat, and is met with a battle cry worthy of warriors. When they get outside, the air clears Michael’s head some, but not enough to register that someone’s holding his hand right away. 

 

“We’re going to Denny’s,” Jeremy sighs next to him, squeezing Michael’s hand once.  _ What fresh hell is this _ . “It’s a good enough restaurant but I always feel like fighting someone in the parking lot.”

 

“Denny’s is a liminal space,” Michael croaks, hoping to god that his palms aren’t sweaty. “And, uh, why are you holding my hand, bro?”

 

Jeremy looks over at him, puzzled. They’re almost to his car, and Michael doesn’t know if he wants to sink into the asphalt or ascend into the heavens. “Christine said that you said your hands were cold? I don’t blame you, the fine arts rooms are always chilly, but if you want me to stop I-”

 

“Nonono it’s,” Michael pulls his car keys out of his pocket, “totally fine, my hands are _so_ cold man you’re definitely helping a bro out.”

 

“Good,” Jeremy smiles, and squeezes his hand again before opening the passenger side door and clambering in. Michael gets in the driver’s side and starts the car. The Phantom of the Opera is still playing, and of _course_ it’s Music of the Night. Michael blearily notes that Jeremy’s hand is on the console, palm up like he’s begging for change. He chokes a little on his own spit and links their fingers together, driving to Denny’s one-handed. 

 

_ Floating, falling _ __   
_ Sweet intoxication _ __   
_ Touch me, trust me _ __   
_ Savor each sensation _ __   
_ Let the dream begin _ __   
_ Let your darker side give in _ __   
_ To the power of the music that I write _ _   
_ __ The power of the music of the night

 

oOo

 

So yeah, if you told Michael that he would be willing to watch Jeremy desperately try and woo Christine every night for about a month while he pretended to hate the man he loved most in the world, he would definitely recommend you get a psych evaluation.

 

However, he just might believe you if you told him that Jeremy would end up kissing him senseless on opening night after the curtain call, jubilant and overcome with emotion, admitting that Christine had been trying to set them up forever. 

 

But, nah. Still pretty outrageous.

 

(Not as outrageous as Rich and Jake getting caught in the makeup room, but still. That's a whole other story.)  

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> idek its 3 am again i ca'nt stop


End file.
